


Silence like a cancer grows.

by withdiamonds



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Pittsburgh Penguins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-03
Updated: 2012-09-03
Packaged: 2017-11-13 12:22:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/503499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withdiamonds/pseuds/withdiamonds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Geno stops talking on a Friday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silence like a cancer grows.

**Author's Note:**

> So this story was inspired by the title. I mean, I heard Simon and Garfunkle's "Sound of Silence," and _silence like a cancer grows_ seemed like an awesome title for a story. (I frequently work that way.) However, the story itself doesn't live up to the weight of that title, but no other title seemed right, either. I mean, it's not a bad story, it's just not _deep._

Geno stops talking on a Friday. 

They're in New York, and at first Sid just thinks Geno's voice is lost in the cacophony of the place.

But, okay, he doesn't stop talking to everyone, just to Sid. Sid doesn't think anyone else even notices.

And he has no idea why, if he's done something wrong, if he's done something to upset Geno, or what.

So he starts asking around, subtly trying to find out if anyone else knows what's going on. Except that subtle isn't exactly Sid's strong suit, so naturally within a day the entire team is throwing him and Geno looks across the dressing room, looks that Sid knows they all think are stealthy, but are so, so not.

"Dude," he hisses at Tanger. "Stop staring at Geno." Like everybody in the room staring at Geno is going to make him start talking to Sid again. 

"I'm not staring," Tanger says defensively. His eyes cut over to Geno again. 

Sid sighs. At least Geno seems oblivious to the scrutiny he's under. So far, anyway - it's really only a matter of time. Geno is neither stupid nor unobservant.

Now that he's brought it to everyone's attention, Sid wishes he'd kept his mouth shut. No possible good can come of people like Matt Cooke thinking there's something nefarious going on. There's a disquieting gleam in Cookie's eyes that makes Sid's heart sink.

God only knows to what lengths his teammates will go in order to uncover the mystery. This is the first time Sid's felt relief instead of gloom when he thinks about how Max is a fucking Flyer now; he would have had a field day with this.

Sid needs to figure this out before they go into action, or at least before it fucks him and Geno up on the ice.

*

It's possible that ship's already sailed.

Practice Monday is completely wrong. They're at Southpointe instead of Consol, and Sid is usually comfortable there, but today things feel off.

Geno won't pass to him, for one. Sid may as well not even be out there on the ice with him. They're working on the power play, and Tanger and Sully go from confused to concerned in about two minutes flat.

Dan and Geno spend some time huddled along the boards, Geno's shoulders high and tense, Dan shaking his head. Then Dan slaps Geno on the shoulder, sending him back over to their group. 

Finally, when Sid's all but standing in front of the net waving his arms around like an idiot, Geno sends him a no-look pass that Sid buries with a lot more force than is really necessary from one foot away from the cage.

Nealer skates over to Geno, and Dan yells for Sid to join him at the other end of the ice. He skates away with Tanger's glare burning a hole in the back of his head, which is totally unfair. This is on Geno, because Sid doesn't have the slightest idea what the problem is.

Dan just raises his eyebrows when Sid skates up to him, and Sid shrugs.

"Fuck if I know," he says. 

Dan's eyes narrow.

"I don't!"

"Have you tried asking him?" Dan looks like he already knows the answer to that question, which, again - not fair.

"No," Sid says, trying and failing not to sound sulky. "He won't let me." 

Sid watches the right side of Dan's mouth twitch with ill-concealed amusement and feels his face heat with embarrassment, although he doesn't know why _he_ should be embarrassed. 

It's not his fault Geno's being an asshole.

"Well," Dan says in his mock-serious voice, the one Sid probably hears more often than anyone else does, "maybe you could try again."

Sid's whole life just isn't fucking fair.

*

"What did you do?" Mario asks kindly as Nathalie slips inside to check on dinner.

Sid looks at him, startled, with no clue as to what he's talking about.

"To Geno," Mario adds helpfully, his gaze seeing way more than Sid wants him to, as usual.

Sid shrugs. "No idea," he mutters, staring out over the Lemieux's vast backyard and down toward the pool. He sighs, disappointed. It would have been awesome if Mario knew what Geno's deal was and could tell Sid what was wrong.

There's no reason why he should know, but Sid is intimately acquainted with Mario's impressive omniscience when it comes to the Penguins.

Nathalie comes out to tell them dinner's ready, and they let the subject drop. But as Mario's walking Sid to his car later - which is a rare enough occurrence in itself that it makes Sid swallow against a suddenly dry throat - he pins Sid with a Look.

"Figure it out and fix it."

Sid nods. "I will."

"Or else I'll tell Nathalie."

Sid's insides turn to ice and he swallows again.

*

Geno still won't talk to Sid, but on Tuesday he looks at him. That's something, at least. Sid feels kind of pathetically grateful, which ends up pissing him off, and then he tries some more to get Geno to talk, and Geno still won't do it.

"What the fuck?" Sid asks him angrily. Geno's eyes narrow, and he holds Sid's gaze. Sid's shoulders slump. "What did I do wrong?"

Geno turns away at that, and Sid whispers, "I didn't do anything wrong," at his retreating back.

Sid is almost ready to call Gonch, but he's not quite there yet. It just – it would feel too much like defeat. This is him and Geno – he should be able to figure it out all by himself, without Sergei's help. 

Isn't that what adult relationships are supposed to be like?

Okay, so maybe adults don't involve almost every person they know in their problems, and Sid very much rues the day he asked Flower if he knew what was wrong with Geno, but still. A hockey dressing room resembles nothing so much as a middle school without any girls, which is at times fun and at times horrifying, but almost always ridiculous.

Putting his equipment away properly takes Sid a little longer than some of the other guys - okay, maybe all of the other guys - but Geno used to wait for him, back before he stopped talking to Sid. 

He always smiles indulgently at Sid's quirks and rituals, which makes Sid feel like a normal person, basking in the warmth of Geno's affection. Sid misses it.

They blow the socks off Winnipeg – again. Geno gets five points, his parents are in the stands, and Sid thinks he's probably never going to find him in a better mood than this. It's time to try again, to _push_ this time.

Geno doesn't push well – he's somewhat unmovable when he wants to be – but Sid's had more success than most.

They've done their post-game time on the bikes, showered, and now it's time to get dressed and go home.

Sid straightens his shoulders and firms up his chin. He can do this. Just for today, Sid can get dressed and put his shit away like a normal person, and maybe he'll be ready to leave at the same time Geno is. 

It actually works, although Sid gets the feeling the entire dressing room conspired to make it happen. While he would normally freak out if he emerged from the shower to find Jordy hanging Sid's jock up in its usual place, tonight he refrains.

He's ready to go when Geno is and manages to be right behind him as they leave the dressing room.

"Geno, wait," he says, and Sid's stomach swoops as Geno stops. This is it, Geno's finally going to tell him what he did wrong.

But Sid's forgotten about Geno's parents. They're waiting for him on the other side of the door, and Sid sucks in a breath. "Fuck."

Geno gives him a reproachful look even as he reaches to hug his mother. But Sid didn't mean it that way, and Geno knows it. Sid loves Geno's mother, and she loves him right back.

"Sid!" Geno's dad says. There's a flurry of back-slapping and cheek-kissing, and then Geno's mom says something to Geno in Russian, smiling at Sid hopefully.

Geno shakes his head, and Natalia frowns, looking unhappy. They argue in whispers, leaving Sid and Geno's dad to stand around smiling awkwardly at each other.

Finally Natalia nods, then looks at Sid with a tight smile. "Is good to see you, Sidney." She tucks her hand in the crook of Geno's elbow and they turn away. Sid hears her say "Zhenya" softly as they move down the corridor.

Geno's dad shrugs apologetically at Sid and turns to follow his wife and son.

The locker room door opens behind him, and Sid doesn't even have to turn his head to know who it is. "He left with his parents."

Jordy grunts in sympathy and walks with Sid as they head out, telling Sid a story about something stupid Eric said last week.

Sid appreciates the attempt at distraction, but he turns down Jordy's offer of a beer. "Nah, I think I'll just go home."

Jordy slaps him on the shoulder. "Hang in there, man."

"Sure, sure," Sid says.

*

 _Please tell me._ Sid texts at midnight.

The answer comes faster than he expected it to. Well, he didn't expect it to come at all, really, but the answer throws him when it does come.

_How you not know?_

Sid has no idea what to do with that. He's been racking his brain for the past week, and he has absolutely no fucking idea.

_I have no fucking idea._

He thinks about how cranky that sounds and sends another text.

_Sorry._

_For what?_

Again, he has no fucking idea, aside from his abruptness. Although really, he's always sorry when Geno is unhappy. It's a rare occurrence, so it's one that Sid takes very seriously.

Especially if it's his fault.

 _Sorry if I made you unhappy._ He reads the text over and then deletes the "if" before he hits send.

This time there's no answer, and Sid falls asleep with his phone in his hand, waiting for it anyway.

*

Sid spends Wednesday hiding from everyone. Nathalie calls and leaves a message for him to call her back _as soon as you get this_ and Sid considers throwing his phone out of his car window in the middle of the parkway north, but with his luck it wouldn't break and someone would find it and see all his sad text messages to his sister about how Geno won't talk to him, and it would be all over the news that Sid is a loser.

Thursday, before the game against Nashville, Sid's walking down the corridor to the locker room when Geno suddenly looms in his path, gripping his elbow and tugging him into an unused office.

Geno slams the door shut and shoves Sid up against it, all up – or more like down – in Sid's face, and Sid is actually fine with that. At least Geno is touching him. 

They stand there breathing at each other, and after an eternity, during which Sid thinks his heart stops at least three times, Geno sighs and starts to back away.

That's just not acceptable. Sid grabs at Geno's tie, trying and mostly failing to haul him back in. "No, wait, please, Geno, just _tell me._ "

Geno stops resisting, and Sid is fiercely happy about that, using the lack of resistance to at least keep Geno close enough to touch.

"I see you, Sid." It sounds like an accusation.

"I see you, too. I see you all the time. Always." Sid doesn't know what else to say.

"I – no, is not what I mean." But Geno's eyes have softened and he stares at Sid's mouth before tearing his gaze away, looking over Sid's shoulder at the wall behind him.

"What do you mean, then?" Sid reaches up and touches Geno's cheek.

Geno leans into the touch and closes his eyes. "I see you hold head before game in New York." 

"What?" Sid is totally confused at this.

"I see you, your eyes dizzy." Geno pokes an accusing finger into Sid's chest. "You play anyway."

"I – it wasn't – it was just a headache. My eyes weren't _dizzy._ What the fuck, Geno?"

"I get it. You want to play. You sick of not playing. But you can't play if still hurt." Geno looks as if he's the one who's hurt, his eyes dark.

"Geno, no, I promise, it was just a sinus headache, from the weather. Pittsburgh weather, you know it's hell on my sinuses." Honestly, Sid barely even remembers having a headache when they were playing the Rangers.

Geno stares at him stonily. "We not in Pittsburgh that day."

"Whatever! I swear, it was nothing! What, did you think I was having a relapse, or something? You couldn't have just _asked_ me? Jesus Christ, Geno." Sid gives Geno's shoulder a shove, feeling kind of furious. 

"Serious?" Geno sounds hopeful.

"Yes! You should have talked to me. What a fucking stupid waste of time." Sid shakes his head and glares.

"Was less than one week, Sid," Geno says in a meek voice. 

"It was the longest week of my life," Sid snaps.

Geno's expression is a mix of remorseful and hopeful. Sid narrows his eyes, and Geno smiles at him, just a tiny one, but it melts away the last of Sid's anger.

"You're an idiot," Sid tells him. 

Geno nods. "Sometimes," he agrees solemnly.

"What am I going to do with you?" 

Geno doesn't know a rhetorical question when he hears one, apparently, because he leans down and kisses Sid, warm and soft, before he lifts his head and says, "Good answer?"

"Good answer," Sid agrees, tugging Geno down for another kiss. He bites at Geno's lip, sharp, as if he's still angry. Geno pulls back, swiping his tongue across the spot. Sid reaches up and touches it with his finger.

That gets him a full-on grin and a suggestion that makes his cheeks heat up.

"Later, if you're lucky," he huffs as he shoves Geno toward the door. "We have a game to play."

"I be luckiest tonight," Geno says. It sounds like a promise.

"I'm not sure you know what _lucky_ means," Sid says, and then he sort of flinches when his braying laugh echoes down the corridor.

Geno doesn't seem to mind, though. His laugh is just as loud.


End file.
